


335E

by orphan_account



Series: District 9 AU [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Arsonist Jeongin, Disaster gay Hyunjin, District 9 - Freeform, District 9 AU, Dystopia, Emo boy Jeongin, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Gay, HYUNSUNG, HYUNSUNG IS THE ONLY SHIP FITE ME, Hyunjin is a gay mess, M/M, Sort Of, Ticket collector Hyunjin, everything is gay, hyunjin is good at science, idk - Freeform, illegal stuff, it isn't as intense as the last one, people who are good at physics are hot, physics is sexy, right??, strgay kids, whew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sequel toGrey MeadowHyunjin should have known earlier to suspect everyone.I suck at summaries, but you probably know that.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Series: District 9 AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563448
Comments: 47
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

“Jisung,” Hyunjin whispered. 

He couldn’t stand it. This was far too much - the iciness of Jisung’s fingertips against his cheek, his chest pressed against Hyunjin’s, his breath ghosting along Hyunjin’s neck…

There was no blood staining Jisung’s uniform anymore, and the chains had disappeared, somehow. The chair they sat on felt far too comfortable to be a torture device.

Hyunjin didn’t know. He didn’t care. All he knew was that they were in a dark room with no one else, and somehow, he was in the chair with Jisung on his lap.

Jisung kissed him, and the strong taste of orange-flavoured medication filled Hyunjin’s mouth. 

Stupid computer. Why couldn’t he just have a regular conversation with Jisung?

And yet, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this. He had fantasised about this more times than he could count - about pulling Jisung into his arms and mouthing sweet nothings down his neck, or feeling Jisung’s wiry frame quiver while he felt through his flimsy white uniform.

“Stop, please,” Hyunjin panted. 

“Why?” Jisung looked up at him, eyes wide. The simulation had even rendered a silver chain around his neck - the very same one Hyunjin had given him.

“Because I wanna talk to you. Just talk, nothing else.” Hyunjin shifted beneath Jisung’s weight. It was a lie. He may have come here wanting to talk, but now, the computer was really testing his restraint.

“Talk later?” Jisung blinked. His lower lip jutted out unfairly, just the way the real Jisung did when he wanted something from Hyunjin. “Please?”

“I - “ Hyunjin started. He tried his hardest not to buck his hips against the boy. This wasn’t fair. Jisung was grinding slowly into his hips now, and it was impairing Hyunjin’s ability to form coherent thoughts.

“Jinnie, please; I want you.”

Hyunjin’s eyes snapped open. How did the computer know? No one called him Jinnie apart from Jisung - the real one. This wasn’t real.

The room swam before Hyunjin’s eyes. None of this was real, no matter how convincing the simulation felt. The facility had burned down two months ago. This room probably didn’t exist anymore.

Jisung...He didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright?” A painfully realistic concern was painted on Jisung’s face. No, not Jisung. This wasn’t Jisung.

“Jinnie?” The simulation was tugging at his sleeve lightly. Just like Jisung. Hyunjin wanted to faint - the computer was rendering details far too accurately for comfort. 

And then at once, everything was bright, too bright. 

Hyunjin was panting. The padding of the headset beside him was damp with his sweat, just like the inside of his gloves. 

He sighed, slumping into the recliner. He hated Changbin’s shitty simulator; it always turned every daydream into a fucking sex scene. It wasn’t surprising, since most of the clients who used it were sexually depraved specimens. 

And yet, Hyunjin found himself frequenting the shady four-room joint every morning right after his night shift on the bus, only to leave disappointed, and at times, hard.

Yeah, it wasn’t Jisung, but it was the next best thing, he supposed.

“Your simulator is crappy,” Hyunjin complained. He fished through his pockets for any stray coins and dumped them onto the counter.

Changbin ignored him, picking the coins off the grimy counter instead. “This still doesn’t cover your dues from last week.”

“I know, I’m broke. I won’t be getting my paymail ‘til Saturday, and I need all of that for rent.” Hyunjin frowned. “Sorry.”

He shouldn’t be here. He was too poor for this. 

“Yeah, right,” Changbin rolled his eyes. “Same old, same old. I can’t let you in tomorrow unless you pay up. Running these things costs money, y’know. My maintenance man is acting up - he says he won’t update whatever algorithm shit that goes on in there unless I give him a raise.”

“I can’t afford to pay you,” Hyunjin laughed humourlessly. “What do you want me to do, smash my piggybank?”

“Whatever gets me my cash,” Changbin shrugged. “No simulator tomorrow for you.”

Hyunjin felt his heart sink. “Don’t say that, please.” Changbin had to know. He needed this, he needed to see Jisung once more. It didn’t matter if it left him sad and unsatisfied everyday. It was still better than nothing.

Changbin laughed. “Look here, Hwang, I don’t care how you feel about it. I don’t run this shithole for charity.”

“You don’t understand,” Hyunjin shook his head. “I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah? What’s the computer gonna make him say that you don’t know already? It draws from your fantasies; there’s nothing new it can show you.” 

Hyunjin knew. Still, he couldn’t help but come back for more. “I want to ask him how he’s feeling and make sure he’s all right. Changbin, I just want to look at him safe for once, without any bruises on his body. Is that too much?”

“Yes.” Changbin watched as Hyunjin’s face fell rapidly. “Hey, it’s been what, two months now?”

Hyunjin nodded. Two months since the facility burned down. Three since Jisung stopped appearing in the woods to meet him. And a month and a half since he started spending afternoons at Changbin’s shitty computerised brothel.

“Mmm, he really did a number on you, huh?” 

“I guess.” Hyunjin felt a sad smile tug at his lips. “I miss him.”

“Is that why my simulator is shitty? Doesn’t look enough like him?” 

“No; it just that whenever I try talking to him, the computer just makes him grind onto me or whatever.” It looked too much like him. That was the problem. “Can’t you stop it from doing that?”

“Seriously? People come here for sex. If you wanna talk, you might as well see a chatbot. And I thought you’d like having your boy toy letting you feel him up if you miss him so much.” Changbin’s lone earring gleamed beneath the naked bulbs when he laughed. “You’re weird.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “I want to be able to give him hugs and kisses too, you know. And we’ve never fucked, anyways.”

“Yeah, but don’t you wanna?” Changbin raised an eyebrow.

Hyunjin’s gaze fell to the floor and a small smile stretched his lips against his will. “I’d be lying if said I didn’t. But, you know, he’s got this whole innocent vibe about him. I don’t want to mess with him unless he wants me to.”

“Fat chance of that happening now,” Changbin smirked.

“Yeah.” It hurt, the way Changbin said it. “I’ll be off, then.”

“No, wait.” Changbin called. “I’ll give you tomorrow if you really want.”

Hyunjin stopped. “What’s the catch?” There was always a catch with Changbin.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Changbin replied without elaborating.

“No advance payments this time, huh?” Hyunjin laughed. “That’s odd.”

Changbin picked a pellet of paper off the counter and flicked it at Hyunjin. “Don’t be mouthy, or I’ll change my mind about tomorrow.” But he laughed back, nonetheless.

_____

Night shifts were the best. Hyunjin had been rather disappointed at first when he realised he would be on night duty, but he soon found out that the most interesting passengers travelled at night.

Like the counterfeiter who kept him supplied with discount coupons that fooled every checkout scanner, or the woman with the alpaca fur-covered handbag. Of course, alpacas had been extinct for the past sixty-or-so years, but such facts do not make for more than minor inconveniences when you are rich. 

Hyunjin watched silently as she swiped her bus pass against the checker. He didn’t need his tablet to flash green with her name to know who she was; he had seen her enough times already. The woman was still standing at the mouth of the aisle, making a show of trying to decide which seat to pick.

It was the last round of his shift, and dawn diffused through the hazy sky slowly.

The double doors slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, and Hyunjin stood up with a sigh. They had been through this enough times before. 

The bus started with a heavy jerk, and the woman toppled, her designer scarf trailing behind her as Hyunjin caught her neatly by the waist.

“Please be careful, ma’am,” he gritted as pleasantly as he could.

“Of course,” the woman simpered. She pretended to read Hyunjin’s name tag, as though she had forgotten his name. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“No problem.” Hyunjin offered a superficial bow. The woman was still standing in the aisle, and Hyunjin felt uncomfortable. He did not fancy the idea of catching her again that night. Once everyday was tedious enough.

The woman set her alpaca fur handbag on the seat next to her before fishing through it for a small hand-mirror. It looked just like the one Hyunjin had stolen months ago for Jisung. Of course, she had bought a new one - she could afford it.

Hyunjin toyed with the idea of stealing this one too before deciding against it. He had already pinched two mirrors from her purse already. She hadn’t noticed, but Hyunjin didn’t want to push his luck. 

“Your makeup is perfect already, ma’am; you needn’t bother fixing it.” Hyunjin sat opposite the woman in the otherwise - empty bus. He played along tonight, just like he always did. That way, she wouldn’t notice much when he slipped his hand into her purse.

“Why, you boys are so sweet,” the woman leered at him. Her smile was a little too wide, and her forehead was shining with plastic. Just like her stretched out cheeks. Beneath the layers of expensive makeup and cloying perfume, Hyunjin could see that her almost perfect face was the clever handiwork of a plastic surgeon somewhere in uptown Seoul.

“We can’t help it,” Hyunjin chuckled softly, and the woman adjusted her skirt delicately, feigning a disgusting coyness.

Hyunjin had felt guilty about it at first. Chatting up women with pricey haircuts and plastic faces who walked into the bus before pocketing a shellacked keychain or compact powder that didn’t match his skin anyways.

Now though, he didn’t care. They didn’t notice either, as long as he smiled prettily at them and wished them good night before they alighted. 

It was a fair price, he thought, for all the unwarranted conversation and coquettish smiles he tolerated. It suited him well, earning him extra tips at times. 

The doors hissed open again, and someone familiar walked in. Hyunjin recognised the slim boy who walked in - far too young to look as old as he did. 

A glimmer of recognition passed through the boy when their eyes met. “I don’t have my bus pass with me; could you refer me instead?”

Hyunjin nodded, pulling out his tablet. The boy entered his name into the bright green textbox. Yang Jeongin.

“Your ID is alright,” Hyunjin pretended to scan through the details that popped onto the screen. The ID wasn’t, in fact, alright. “Don’t forget next time.”

Jeongin nodded curtly before occupying the seat behind Hyunjin. He kept the pretence of impersonality well, at least when there were other passengers around. Hyunjin noticed he was starting to fill out his clothes better; his cheeks hollow into his skull anymore. Changbin was treating him well for sure.

Hyunjin remembered the day when he had first seen Jeongin in Changbin’s parlour (that is was the older man liked to call it - it sounded a lot more dignified than the truth). His grey uniform was hanging loosely off his frame, covered in puke stains. Changbin had bought the boy out from a genetics lab, and Hyunjin was happy for it.

It was Jeongin who knew the ins and outs of the gigantic black market beneath the defence bunker that stood at the ruins of the Namdaemun gate. It was a marketplace even Hyunjin didn’t know of, perhaps because it opened at midnight and folded up by four.

That was where Jeongin had helped Hyunjin find the booklet with the map of the facility. 

The woman with the alpaca fur purse dropped a set of keys, and Hyunjin stooped to pick them off the aisle floor. The bus braked suddenly. Hyunjin felt thankful to the magnetised soles of his work boots for holding him to the floor firmly instead of him topple horrifically into the alpaca purse lady.

Hyunjin bowed slightly as the woman thanked him. Behind him, Jeongin was quivering with silent laughter. Hyunjin mouthed him a silent ‘stop it’.

“I think this is your stop, ma’am,” Hyunjin reminded. The woman hadn't paid for a ticket to the last stop tonight, thankfully. 

“Right.” Hyunjin watched as she minced across the aisle in impossibly high heels.

Glass melded into rubber and the doors sealed themselves once again. Jeongin was laughing now - loud and full-bellied. 

“Brat,” Hyunjin hissed. There was no one left in the bus apart from the two of them now. Hyunjin twirled the freshly stolen belt charm around a finger before slipping it into his pocket. He loved trinkets, but this one would probably go to Changbin to clear his unpaid bills.

“Watch out, she just might try to kiss you someday.” The whites of Jeongin’s eyes disappeared with a devilish smile. 

Hyunjin shuddered. “I’ll tell her I’m a faggot before that. Then she’ll hate me and stay away, hopefully.” 

“No, stupid; you’ll lose your job then.” Jeongin laughed, displaying a mouth full of metal. He had gotten braces recently, and they made him look younger than the age he was aiming for. Hyunjin was thankful for that, at least it ensured Jeongin never opened his mouth around strangers for fear of showing his braces. 

That also meant he didn’t talk much, and that meant it was easier for Hyunjin to pretend he had some dignity left.

“I’ll treat you to stuffed rolls once we get off at the East station.”

Hyunjin raised a suspicious eyebrow? “What do you want from me?”

Jeongin shrugged. “I’ll tell you at the depot cafeteria.”

It reminded Hyunjin of how poor he really was. He could barely afford the overpriced food at the depot cafeteria. Well, Jeongin was poor too, but he was also a much nimbler pickpocket than Hyunjin could ever hope to be. 

“There’s no stuffed rolls at the depot cafeteria, Jeongin.” Hyunjin glanced at the glass, steel and concrete landscape through the window. The pavement was starting to shimmer in the morning sun. “We’re on route 335E, not K. This one goes to the outskirts.”

“Ah. Glass noodles, then. I’m sure they have those at the Border station.”

“They do, but they’re always stale, if not cold.” Hyunjin wrinkled his nose. The machines that tossed plates at the cafeteria really did not know how to stir noodles properly. So much for technology.

“It’s the best I can afford.” Jeongin pouted sadly, and Hyunjin felt guilty for damping the boy’s enthusiasm. 

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll eat glass noodles if you like.” He reached out to pat Jeongin’s shoulder. “How did you get the money for it, though?”

“Take a guess,” Jeongin smirked.

“Did you steal?”

“I borrowed without intention of returning,” Jeongin replied saucily.

Hyunjin laughed humourlessly. “Yeah, that’s one thing you know how to do well, isn’t it?”

_____

Hyunjin stared at his rather unappetising bowl of cold noodles. “So, what did you want?”

Jeongin tried to speak through a mouthful of noodles, only to choke and spit out the strings of wheat dangling from his lips. 

“Easy,” Hyunjin patted the boy’s back while he coughed harshly. 

Jisung had coughed that way the last time they met. Hyunjin remembered Minho helping him navigate through the dark corridors of the facility, the electric chair welded to the floor, the heavy chains binding Jisung’s weak wrists to the wall…

It hurt to remember.

“So, there’s this coupon - faker who takes your route, right?” 

“Mmm.” Hyunjin sipped from the disposable bottle that he reused anyways.

“I need a new age proof.” Jeongin said simply. “Or anything that can pass for a drinking permit.”

Hyunjin stared. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“No, I just need to be able to get into bars so I can talk to people who have good stuff.”

Hyunjin felt very, very concerned at the mention of ‘good stuff’. “I’m not getting you anything unless you tell me what the ‘good stuff’ is.”

Jeongin pouted sadly. “Why not?”

“Because I’m the adult here.” Sure, he was only a year older than Jeongin, but he felt an odd sense of responsibility towards him.

“You don’t act like one.” Jeongin’s voice was cool.

“Brat.”

Jeongin stuck out his tongue at Hyunjin.

“No one’s going to believe you even with an age permit until you get your braces off anyways.”

“Hyunjin hyung, please.”

“What’s the ‘good stuff’?” Hyunjin asked sternly.

“It’s embarrassing,” Jeongin mumbled. He fiddled with the remnants of the noodles in his bowl.

“What is it?”

Jeongin sighed. “Imported fruit gummies on discount. The non-sticky kind.”

“Are you lying?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Sure, fruit gummies were good stuff, but they weren’t ‘good stuff’.

“No.” Jeongin replied blankly. “The normal ones get stuck in my braces, see.”

“You’re impossible.” Hyunjin shook his head. “I’ll get it done.”

Jeongin beamed. “I’ll request Changbin hyung to waive off your dues.”

Hyunjin sighed. “Just promise me fruit gummies aren't code for LSD.” With Jeongin, he could never tell.

_____


	2. Chapter 2

“Why are we here?” Hyunjin whispered beneath the wind that rushed over the flat concrete roof of the building.

“Huh?” Jeongin’s eyes widened in incomprehension. His hair flew wildly about his head, just like the drawstrings of his hoodie. He shuffled closer to Hyunjin along the concrete skirting of the terrace. 

“Careful,” Hyunjin warned. He glanced uncertainly at the thirty-foot drop beneath them, and then at Jeongin crouched on the dangerously narrow beam of white cement.

Jeongin merely laughed. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom how he could appear so carefree with his legs dangling over the edge of the terrace. It came with a practice, he supposed.

“You asked why we’re here?”

Hyunjin nodded. It was his new Tuesday ritual now that Jisung wasn’t around - accompanying Jeongin across the city while he acted on whatever mission his unit had assigned to him. Did Changbin know that Jeongin was running missions for the rebel group he funded? Probably not.

Hyunjin had been rather alarmed when he found out about Jeongin’s new ‘extracurriculars’, as the boy referred to them. He might have been tempted to join the sub-unit operating near the orphanage two years ago, but that was before the suicide bombings started. Hyunjin only hoped whoever was in charge of Jeongin’s unit wouldn’t hand him a death stunt of some start.

It was worrying, to say the least. Especially since Jeongin’s missions were starting to grow more and more brazen, first lock picking, then sabotage, and lately, arson. 

Tonight, there would be explosives.

“We’re blowing up this building.” Jeongin’s tone was so casual, Hyunjin would have thought he was buying groceries if he hadn’t heard the words himself.

“We?” When had they become accomplices? Hyunjin was simply tagging along to make sure Jeongin was safe.

Right?

“We,” Jeongin confirmed. “I’m too scared to pull off shit like this alone.”

Hyunjin laughed nervously. Was Jeongin agreeing to worse missions because he felt braver when Hyunjin was around? 

If that was true, then it was probably time for Hyunjin to find a new Tuesday pastime.

“What place is this, anyway?”

Jeongin knelt on the concrete, rummaging through his bag. “Civic Census and Logistics Commission.”

“Oh. What does it do?”

“The usual,” Jeongin shrugged. “Annoy people and eat money.”

Hyunjin watched silently as Jeongin produced a tube of sealed glass from his bag.

“Is that what you’re going to use? You know, to blow it up?”

Jeongin nodded. Hyunjin hoped that by ‘blow up’ Jeongin didn’t actually mean ‘blow up’. Hopefully, this was going to be another arson and not an explosion. Hopefully.

“It’s TNG, I think.” Jeongin held the tube carefully. The transparent liquid inside it bubbled from side to side.

Great. They were going to blow it up.

“Didn’t they have any safer explosive for you? TNG is really unstable.” Hyunjin frowned. From what little chemistry he knew, nitroglycerin was sensitive to everything. Heat, pressure, shocks…That tube could have exploded when Jeongin jumped off the last step of the bus this evening.

“I don’t know,” Jeongin shrugged. “We raided a lab last week, so we’ve got a lot of this stuff on our hands now.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “You know, at times like these, I’m really tempted to tell Changbin about this shit and end your ‘extracurricular’ nonsense. It isn’t safe.”

Jeongin stuck out his tongue at Hyunjin. “You won’t. I know it.” He leant down and set the tube between the jaws of a detonator. Then, he flipped the device over so it would explode into the building instead of firing harmlessly into the air.

“Eight minutes.” The timer was already beeping when Jeongin looked up at Hyunjin with a glint in his eyes. The boy was getting far too addicted to danger for his own good. “Let’s go?”

Hyunjin inhaled deeply. “Let’s go.”

They were already on the subway when a tremor shook through the air and the windows turned orange.

Jeongin was humming to himself.

Yeah, Hyunjin was definitely telling Changbin about this.

_____

“So, what’s the catch?” Hyunjin slid the belt charm over the grimy counter. “I know you’re letting me off tonight, but what do you want from me?”

Changbin held the charm against the dim light, squinting at the metal. “Is this rose gold?” He stooped, rubbing at the shiny surface with a dirty cuff. “I’m guessing you don’t exactly have a receipt for this one?” 

“You know how I work.” Hyunjin laughed. “I could probably sneak up the receipt if you want, but that would be too risky.”

“Mmm.” Changbin pocketed the trinket.

“You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“About that,” Changbin started. “There’s two things, actually.”

“Mmm, I’m listening.” The deal had been just one, but Hyunjin didn’t mind. Changbin had been generous with him.

“I’m starting to feel Jeongin doesn’t actually attend computer lessons at night.” 

“Took you long enough to realise,” Hyunjin snorted. “I really didn’t think you could be so thick.”

Changbin stared. “You know about it?”

Hyunjin nodded. “I don’t know how to put it to you, though.” 

Changbin groaned. “He’s joined some fucking anarchist group, hasn’t he?”

“The same one you fund.” Hyunjin shrugged. “How did you realise?”

“His computer textbook is actually an instruction manual on disarming explosives detectors. I really thought it was an actual textbook, but it turns out that bitch stuck the cover onto the instruction booklet.” Changbin’s voice was heavy. “And you, you haven’t been dropping him to the cyber café, have you?”

Hyunjin was silent. It was good Changbin knew; he would have told him today anyways. 

“What do I do?” Changbin’s forehead was wrinkled with concern. “I don’t want anything to happen to him, especially with this suicide mission fuckery going on.”

“Uh, tell him to stop?”

Changbin laughed humourlessly. “I’m not his father. It isn’t like he’ll listen anyways.”

“Yeah.” Jeongin was headstrong. Perhaps a little too much for his own good. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing, just make sure he’s safe and doesn’t get killed,” Changbin sighed. “He’s too young for this.”

“What, you wouldn’t mind if he was older?”

“I’d have been proud.” 

A boy appeared seemingly out of nowhere to take Hyunjin to the simulator room, just like everyday.

“Wait, what about the second thing you needed?”

“Later,” Changbin waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not keeping the simulator on all day, Hwang; that shit costs me enough money at night.”

Huh.

Changbin was odd that way.

_____

The flickering light of the simulator room faded beneath the darkness of the headset. Hyunjin couldn’t see anything yet, but he could smell dust. That wasn’t new.

Dust, concrete and grass.

Grass? With the kind of water shortage they had?

Yes, definitely grass.

A drab wall came into focus along with the yellow sign that peeped over it. ‘No trespassing,’ it proclaimed. 

Hyunjin knew this place. He had been here before several times, and once with -

A giggle. Jisung’s giggle. The simulation had brought him to a memory tonight.

Hyunjin turned to see Jisung standing behind him. Hyunjin’s grey sweater dwarfed his already slight frame, hanging from his shoulders and falling off his palms. Hyunjin remembered the sweater. It was winter, and Jisung had insisted on keeping it for another week. 

Hyunjin never got it back.

“I know we aren’t trespassing, but I feel what we’re doing is worse, somehow.” Jisung had pulled down the black pollution mask Hyunjin had given him, and the plastic had gathered beneath his chin, making his cheeks look fuller. 

“We could be stealing,” Hyunjin reminded.

“Yeah, but just imagine the people who work here.” A sharp rattling split the night air as Jisung shook the spray can. “They’ll be furious once they get here tomorrow.”

“Well, I don’t care much for their feelings,” Hyunjin shrugged.

Jisung laughed, and Hyunjin felt a sudden warmth tingle in his chest despite the icy night air. There was a pneumatic hiss, and Hyunjin watched Jisung paint ‘fuck the police’ in large letters onto the concrete with an obnoxiously loud shade of orange.

“What do you think?” Jisung looked at Hyunjin once he was done. 

“They’ll love it,” Hyunjin laughed, and Jisung laughed too. It hurt, hearing his laugh so clearly again. Hyunjin wanted to trap Jisung in his arms and keep him safe from everything, everyone, but all he could do was watch as the simulator replayed the memory.

Hyunjin felt Jisung rest his head on his shoulder. “I wanna do this more often.” Small hands snaked around Hyunjin’s waist. “It’s fun.”

Jisung blinked up at Hyunjin through dark lashes that framed large eyes that were far too innocent for the scars that ran along his back, far too soft for the bruises along his chin. And so, so pretty, filled with sparkles. 

Hyunjin was falling.

He pressed a shaky kiss to Jisung’s forehead. His skin felt soft but dry beneath Hyunjin’s lips, probably because of whatever awful soap he got at the facility. Hyunjin had never gotten to buying him moisturiser, though he so badly wanted to. 

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

“Don’t do that,” Jisung giggled softly, burying his face in Hyunjin’s chest. Was he blushing?

Hyunjin hoped he was.

“Why not?” 

“We’ve spoken about this already, Jinnie.” Jisung mumbled into Hyunjin’s shirt.

Jinnie. 

No one would ever call him that again.

“Jisung.”

Hot tears welled behind Hyunjin’s eyes, and he pulled Jisung into a tight embrace. “Oh, Jisung,” Hyunjin gasped brokenly, “I’m sorry.” The simulation looked up at him softly, raising a tiny hand to wipe a tear away.

“Why did you stop coming on Tuesdays?” Hyunjin sobbed quietly.

As if the computer had an answer. Jisung was still wearing a painfully real look of concern as he swiped at Hyunjin’s cheek. 

“What happened to you?” He cupped Jisung’s face gently enough not to disturb the bruises along his chin, though he knew the simulation couldn’t feel anything. 

“Hey,” Jisung’s voice was soft. “Don’t cry; you’ll make me cry, too.” 

That sounded like something Jisung would say. Jisung was always there, always so gentle even when no one was gentle with him. When Hyunjin fell for him, it had been gentle. Even when Hyunjin realised he was caught in a mesh of wide eyes and sunlit laughter, it hadn’t hurt one bit to stray deeper and deeper.

  
  


“Okay,” Hyunjin breathed. He attempted a watery smile that Jisung returned dazzlingly. It ached to see Jisung’s smile up close, even if he needed it. 

“I miss you. So, so much.” He let out a choked sob, and Jisung’s warmth faded into cold tears as the scene dissolved away.

_____

  
  


The city lights flickered blue through the tinted windows of the bus. Hyunjin fiddled slightly with the buttons on his uniform. The bus jerked to a halt yet again that night, and Hyunjin steadied himself against the seats with a practised ease. 

He didn’t need to look at his tablet to know the stop outside was Logic Centre. The man Changbin had told him about was supposed to to board two stops ago, but the bus was still empty save a schoolgirl who was absorbed in a political science textbook.

What did he want?

Changbin didn’t know. The man had asked him for a contact that somehow fit Hyunjin, and Hyunjin had promised Changbin a favour in return for yesterday’s session at the simulator.

The double doors opened with a hiss and there was the familiar tapping of expensive shoes against the metal steps by the door. Hyunjin’s tablet buzzed to tell him the passenger had paid for a ticket to the Border station. 

Kim Seungmin.

That’s what the tablet said, anyways. If he was the person Changbin had told him about, then Hyunjin knew better than to trust any documentation. 

Hyunjin stared at the man - boy, rather - as he settled into the seat closest to the door. His crumpled uniform spoke of exhausting hours spent at an overpriced cram school on the insistence of demanding parents. 

No, Changbin’s contact would probably board the bus on the third round. Yes, that made sense; it would be well past midnight when the third round would start. It would be safer - fewer people, fewer permits, fewer lights…

“Excuse me,” Seungmin called. His voice was soft but cold, just the way hundreds of other well-to-do teenagers of his kind were trained to sound by behaviour coaches. Hell, he even had that typical stuck-up private school accent. 

He waited until Hyunjin reached the front of the bus before he spoke again. No doubt, he had probably never raised his voice in his life. “I don’t have my bus pass with me. Could you refer me instead?”

Hyunjin froze momentarily. Seungmin had gotten on at the wrong stop. No, he was probably just another student who didn’t have his pass with him. He swallowed, checking his tablet though he knew Seungmin’s ID was alright. 

“Your ID is fine.” He watched Seungmin for any reaction. “Don’t forget next time.”

“Right,” Seungmin nodded tightly. He paused, moistening his mouth slightly before leaning in. “You’re Hyunjin, aren’t you?” His voice sank to an airy whisper, and Hyunjin could barely hear him over the drone of the bus engine. Sweat was starting to bead his upper lip.

Hyunjin sucked in a soft breath. So this really was Changbin’s contact. Interesting.

Seungmin glanced nervously at the camera blinking in the corner of the ceiling. He was a rather bad actor, and Hyunjin did not want anyone from the transport department reprimanding him for suspicious conversations with passengers. 

“I could help you once we reach your stop,” Hyunjin tried to be loud enough for the microphone hidden behind the door to catch. Seungmin winced visibly at the sudden loudness. 

Delicate darling. Hyunjin fought a smirk. There was no way this boy lived anywhere near the Border station.

He resented people of Seungmin’s type wholeheartedly - conceived in test tubes and brought up by separate tutors for everything from table manners to posture to makeup sense.

Was Seungmin wearing makeup? 

Hyunjin craned his neck slightly to catch the boy’s reflection in the dark glass of the window. 

Yes, he was. Not much, though; probably just some concealer that was melting off despite the air conditioning inside the bus. Hyunjin was pleasantly surprised, though, to see no traces of surgery on his face. 

Hyunjin almost forgot to wish the girl goodnight when she stepped off the bus at a later stop. 

“The next stop is yours,” Hyunjin reminded Seungmin as the doors swung shut again.

Seungmin nodded.

“Are you returning from your classes?” Hyunjin spoke softly, the way he had realised the richer passengers preferred. 

“Yes.” Seungmin nodded once more, fixing spectacles that were sliding off his nose.

“Science major? Or law?” Hyunjin repressed a sneer. He didn’t need to look closely to know the spectacles weren’t prescription glasses. He was probably wearing them to look his part as a student specialising in a serious subject; his eyes were probably already fixed by surgery.

“Science.” Seungmin cleared his throat delicately. “I’m specialising in science right now; I’m not yet in college.”

“I guessed.” Hyunjin gestured at the uniform Seungmin wore. “What do you want to do with science?”

Seungmin scratched his head, frowning. “Something in genetics, or neuroscience, maybe.”

“Ah.” Was that what his parents wanted him to be? Or were those really his interests? 

Both, perhaps, considering the fact that he was probably one of the specimens churned out by one of the fertility labs that dotted Seoul, trimmed and modified so his genes would support the aspirations his parents had for him. In all likelihood, he didn’t have a personality apart from the picture of obedience and studiousness his parents would want.

“Why neuroscience?” Hyunjin tried keeping his tone as light as possible without sounding fake.

“The scope, you know.” Seungmin shrugged with a nonchalance that was probably crafted for him by a behaviour coach.

The pay, he meant. That was what people normally meant when they said they were choosing a career for its ‘scope’, Hyunjin realised. Just the way the scope involved in working as a ticket collector was almost nil.

“I see.” Hyunjin’s smile was forced. Seungmin didn’t seem to notice, though. “Have you applied anyplace so far?”

“Not yet.” Seungmin exhaled heavily, nervousness slipping through his composed image. “I’ll be going the other way, you know. Get an apprenticeship at a lab and then work my way up while learning more.”

“Right. The experience matters, huh?” 

Seungmin nodded, smiling slightly. 

Experience didn’t matter. Seungmin was just bad at science and wanted to escape universities’ entrance exams. He probably had a contact someplace in a fancy lab in the city, waiting to pick him fresh out of high school.

Hyunjin grimaced internally. It was unfair. He could have been in Seungmin’s place, writing an entrance for a degree in physics this year, but he wasn’t.

“Is there any lab you’re eyeing in particular?” Where was Seungmin’s contact sitting to open doors for him?

“The Institute of Human Sciences.” Seungmin’s face tightened. 

“I see.” Hyunjin was silent. The Institute was a government operated lab, which meant there would be an examination for entry even into the post of lab assistant. It was a back door route many students favoured when they didn’t fancy their chances of getting into the degree program, and Seungmin was one of them.

“You must be preparing hard for the entrance, then.” Hyunin watched Seungmin’s face closely. “The exam is in two months, isn’t it?”

Seungmin pressed his lips into a thin line. He was nervous. “About that -”

There was a loud hiss and the bus stopped for the last time before Hyunjin’s twenty minute break. They were at the Border station.

“Your stop,” Hyunjin gestured to the door. “You’ll find a ride easily outside the main entrance of the depot.”

Thankfully, Seungmin seemed to catch on, because he followed Hyunjin into the main building once Hyunjin had checked out of the scanner blinking by the door.

“Changbin said he would tell you about me,” Seungmin started.

“Don’t say his name out so loud; you’ll get him in trouble.” Hyunjin tried to keep his tone as ordinary as possible, but on the inside, he was terrified. Seungmin really didn’t know how to do this, and it might just cost Hyunjin more than his job.

“Right.” Seungmin didn't bother with an apology. Of course he didn’t; he had no business apologising to a ticket collector.

The main lobby of the bus depot buzzed with noise and heat that reflected off the dirty granite floor that had once been white before it turned grey. It was almost midnight, and most of the people who crowded the depot were personnel from the nearby defence bunker waiting to get home.

“So, how can I help you?” Hyunjin pulled out a chair for Seungmin from one of the tables at the woefully understocked food court.

“About that,” Seungmin inhaled. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No. He said I’ll have to find out.” Hyunjin frowned. Three of the precious fifteen minutes he got for his nightly ‘lunch’ were already gone.

“I’ve been taking classes for the science entrances for three years now, and I’ve never been great at anything but math.” Seungmin swallowed. “And, I assumed I’d get something else since I’m awful at it, but somehow, my telling threw up research.”

“What does your father do?”

“He’s a government biologist.” Seungmin sighed. “It adds up, I guess.”

Hyunjin nodded. “I can’t change any of that, you know. I’m a ticket collector.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Seungmin smirked coolly. “Changbin told me you’ve always wanted to be a scientist.”

Huh.

Hyunjin didn’t like where this was going.

“I did. Once.”

“He says you topped your class for physics and earnt distinction in chemistry.”

“That was long ago.”

Seungmin’s eyes bored into Hyunjin. They were a warm brown, but his gaze was icy. “Six months isn’t enough to forget.”

“Two months aren’t enough to remember, either.” Hyunjin countered. “That’s how long you’ve got left for your exam, isn’t it?”

“You cannot refuse me. I need to get through.” 

“You can’t possibly expect me to write you a proxy test.”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking for.” Seungmin exhaled. His elaborately put up composure was starting to crumble. “I need it; my parents won’t forgive me if I don’t get through.”

“Customer service ends the minute your ticket expires.” Hyunjin didn’t know where he was pulling the words from, but he loved the way Seungmin was squirming nervously. It was never a bad thing to see a spoilt brat out of his comfort zone. “I don’t care what your parents will do; it’s immoral.”

“You owe Changbin.”

“I’ll fix that some other way.” Hyunjin glanced at his watch. Seven minutes up. Seungmin would have to wrap up quickly, or Hyunjin would have to go hungry tonight. “Do your parents know you’re here? Trying to get a ticket collector to write an exam for you because you’re that awful at it?”

There was a scraping of plastic against granite as Seungmin stood up. He brushed non-existent dust off his uniform. His eyes were cold when they met Hyunjin’s. “I’ll be sure to leave feedback.” 

Seungmin jerked his head to the help desk.

Hyunjin should have been worried. He should have felt threatened. Seungmin may be a boy, but his father was rich. There was no way he wouldn’t hear about this tomorrow from the shift manager.

Hyunjin didn’t care. He lounged back in his chair. “Go ahead.”

Seungmin ignored him.

“Goodnight, Seungmin,” Hyunjin sneered after him. “At least you noticed early; now you've got two months to find someone to fill in for your incompetence.”

_____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, do you like where the plot is going?  
> What do you think of the characters?  
> Feed me comments <3


	3. STILL NOT AN UPDATE

Hello everyone. I'm a shitty person. Yeah. 

I didn't mean to go on a four month hiatus, but here we are. And with the covid crisis going on, my exams will stretch until May, maybe even June. You know what that means. No updates.

But I get worse. My writing style has changed in the past months, and I like to think it is for the better. Yeah. I'm cringing when I go through the old chapters of 335E I haven't published yet. I feel I've grown beyond this fic in terms of writing, and that continuing this with the old writing style will ruin any improvement I've made.

I've got a Miroh AU wip at the moment, and I'll publish the first chapter soon. With your permission, I'll discontinue the Grey Meadow series and start the next one. It'll be better, I promise. And I'll finish that. I promise.

I know this series isn't done, but I have the plot already. Should I continue this or post the plotline so you guys can understand how it was supposed to go? Please tell me.

I'm sorry. I feel really cruel. But man, when I look at these series, I'm ashamed of the quality of my writing. Please do understand. 

I could, alternatively, finish this series with my current writing style as well - if that's what you would prefer. Tell me in the comments, please. 

Whatever happens, after you are happy with the closure of this series, I will orphan this work. I am ashamed of its lack of quality and do not wish to be associated with it anymore. I'm moving on to better, more complex fics with characters that have (hopefully) more realistic personalities.

I'm sorry. Better fics to be posted on this account once Jojo tells me what she thinks of the new style.

Thank you for putting up with my crappiness.


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